


sooner rather than later

by miss_sofia



Category: X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: A little bit of angst, A little bit of fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-09-16 01:19:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9267356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miss_sofia/pseuds/miss_sofia
Summary: "I will always love you. Or, anyway, I will always have loved you now."





	

As much as they like to believe it isn't true, conflict is unavoidable. They are — always have been and always will be — two sides of the same coin, so similar yet so impossibly different, pushing and pulling on opposite directions, fighting a lost battle against themselves in an attempt to find common ground. Deep down, they know it. Before the fights and before the beach and before the longing and before the nights of drinking in hiding and crying, before everything, they know it.  
  
Charles is asleep and Erik isn't, a relatively quiet night at the mansion while things are still good, albeit tense. Charles' mind is in peace and will stay in peace for nearly four hours, which is all the time he can shut down the telepathy for. Erik's mind is restless and will stay restless for the next four hours, which is all the time Charles can keep his mind turned off.  
  
There are all kinds of scenarios running through Erik's thoughts, the stories and possibilities he only allows himself to think of when he knows there's no chance Charles will listen (not that Charles would, but, no matter what, Erik can't trust anyone blindly). He thinks of a different Earth, one ruled only by mutants; he thinks of Shaw's head on a plate, even more literally than figuratively; he thinks of anger and revenge and victory; he thinks of him and Charles, side by side, in this antique bed, bodies pressed against each other in slumber; he thinks of the end of the wars and the fights and the complications; he thinks of the family he's lost and of the kids in the mansion who have lost theirs as well.  
  
He's sure, for a brief moment, that he can hear Charles voice, a whisper passing through like a gush of wind, "You're getting soft, old friend". He startles, looks at his left and sees a sleeping man and knows, is absolutely certain, that the voice was his own, Erik's own Charles-shaped-conscience, the little angel on his shoulder. He sighs, thinks of the end he knows will come, lets himself dwell on the certainty of the fall, and then slips further down the bed, closes his eyes, and slips a hand over Charles waist.  
  
The end will be sooner rather than later, but he might as well enjoy it while it lasts.

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted in 2012 @lj.


End file.
